


A Merry Little Christmas

by ferggirl



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferggirl/pseuds/ferggirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma's actually never been big on celebrating the holidays. Her parents did not coddle their only child when she was young, but instead urged her to think of her time as precious and not waste it on games and dreams of magical jolly men who brought children toys in their sleep.</p>
<p>Christmas was a distraction. Pretty, shiny, unnecessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alessandralee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/gifts).



> slight AU where May/Ward is over and resolved, because I have Christmas fluff to write, darn it. apologies for sappiness. you have been warned.

Jemma's actually never been big on celebrating the holidays. Her parents did not coddle their only child when she was young, but instead urged her to think of her time as precious and not waste it on games and dreams of magical jolly men who brought children toys in their sleep.

Logic, they'd said, would take her so much farther than foolish imaginings. 

So they'd bought her the books she'd wanted, and she'd studied through the Christmas holiday each year, keeping her marks high and her focus set.

Christmas was a distraction. Pretty, shiny, unnecessary. 

Fitz demanded a gift exchange each year, and Jemma always got him something useful, something for the lab or his latest project. Something he would have bought himself in a week or two, except that he wanted it in paper with a bow. 

But Skye was insisting, this year, that her team do a secret santa. She'd gotten Fitz to rig up a tree over Jemma's strenuous objections. (Such a waste of time and resources. There was science to be done! Mysteries to be solved!)

May had smiled, coming out of Coulson's office to watch their progress. It would be team-building, she'd said. And with their leader gone, they could use some of that.

So they put their names in a hat, and drew. 

Jemma's slip of paper had Grant Ward scrawled across it in strong uppercase. 

She waited a few hours before she tracked him down.

"So what do you want?"

He glanced at her in confusion, hanging up the nun-chucks he'd been using on the practice dummy.

"I'm sorry?"

"This gift exchange thing. I pulled your name, I have no idea what I'm supposed to get a super spy, and surely you don't agree with this secrecy nonsense anyway."

"Simmons!" He laughed, toweling the sweat off his head and then moving to where she was holding up her slip of paper. He reached out and folded her hand back over it. "You're not supposed to tell me."

"Yes, I gathered that, but I don't have time to figure you out, so what do you need? It has to be within the price limit, of course..." she glanced down to where his hand was still holding hers. "What are you doing?"

"You," he said with a shake of his head, "are clearly in need of a Christmas intervention."

"I beg your pardon?"

"What's your favorite thing to do around the holidays? Sledding? Snowball fights? Hot chocolate and carols?"

"I... my family didn't consider such frivolity a good use of time."

His eyebrow shot up. "I'm sorry?"

"My parents were very honest with me, from an early age. They thought wasting time on nonsense like holiday breaks and magic and... and Santa Claus would keep me from my true potential. As a scientist," she reminded him. 

"That's it," he said, reaching out and lifting her up over his shoulder in one fluid motion. 

"Agent Ward! This is highly inappropriate!"

"So is telling me you're my secret santa," he said with a smile in his voice. "Where's Fitz? I need information."

He carted her up the stairs and managed not to bump her head on any of the doorways. It was all really rather impressive. When he finally set her back on her feet, she attributed her red face and slightly breathless feeling to the head rush. Surely.

Fitz and Skye were watching some ridiculous television program with talking reindeer and elves and such. 

"We have a problem," Ward said, grabbing her wrist when she started to leave. He just kept  _touching_ her.

"What did you do now, Jemma?" Fitz asked with a groan. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. 

Skye just looked confused. 

"How long has she been like this?" Ward asked Fitz.

"Ever since I've known her," he said with sigh. "Her parents really did a number on her. No fairytales, no magic, always a logical explanation."

"Which made me the scientist I am today," Jemma protested. 

"You would have been that scientist anyway," Fitz said. "You're too smart not to be. A little magic wouldn't have hurt you."

Skye piped up, her face full of concern. "Simmons, do you not like Christmas?"

"I like it just fine," Jemma said defensively. "It's a lovely time of year, and the decorations are... fine. It’s a bit cold for my liking. It's just all the absurd stories people make up, all the illogical things they expect kids to believe..."

She tugged at her arm, but Ward shook his head. "No, Scrooge, you're not released yet."

"It's no good, Ward," Fitz said with a shrug. "I tried in college to get her to play along. She just doesn't... understand."

Jemma bit her lip, hating the feeling of inadequacy that was rising in her. They had no right. Just because she had never believed idiotic stories about a man in a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer...

Grant was looking down at her with pity. 

Skye whispered, "Never, Jemma? You never went to bed on Christmas Eve and thought you might wake up to... something?"

Once. She'd been five. Just starting kindergarten, and the teacher had been filling their heads with hopeful stories. She'd known it was illogical, known that it had never happened before at her house. 

But maybe now that she  _knew_  about Santa, he'd come. Maybe... 

Only he hadn't. Because he didn't exist. Her parents had transferred her out of that school after they found her crying at the bottom of the stairs the next morning. 

And Jemma had never wasted time on magic again. 

"It's just another day," she said weakly. But they'd all seen her hesitation.

 

******

Skye was the first to do anything. She downloaded a whole slew of Christmas specials, and ordered Jemma to take a break and watch them with her. 

They ate peppermint flavored candies and Skye explained how each of these specials had given her hope while she was alone at the holidays. Hope that one day, she'd have a family to share it with. That someone was looking for her. 

Jemma could hear that she was holding back tears, and if claymation reindeer would help with that, she would sit through them, dammit. 

Besides, she quite liked the abominable snowman. Yeti were a viable biological hypothesis, although this one was absolutely anatomically incorrect... and adorable.

Fitz didn't push her. He knew better. She was very defensive about her parents and their choices in raising her. 

But she did find a card on her pillow a few nights before Christmas with "Open Immediately" written on it. 

The card was green and garish and had a disapproving large man with a white beard on the front.

_Which of Santa's reindeer need to mind their manners the most?_  it read.

She rolled her eyes and opened it.  _Rude Olf._ A red-nosed reindeer was belching on the facing page.

But he had written a note at the bottom. 

_Simmons,_

_They made you who you are. But it's time to make your own decisions. A little magic never hurt anyone._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Fitz_

There was a flash drive taped to the card. When she inserted it into her tablet, the only file was a PDF called "Simmons Christmas Eve."

When she opened it, there was a schedule laid out. Breakfast with Skye, 8 am; making ornaments with Fitz and Skye, 9-11 am; movies, 2-6 pm; sledding and eggnog, 8-10 pm.

"All very unmagical, Fitz," she said irritably. But it was sweet, and he meant well, so she saved the file to her calendar.

She thought Ward might attempt a similar campaign, but the only thing he did was bump into her rather often. In the lab, outside her bunk, in the galley. It was almost like he was going out of his way to touch her every time they were in the same room.

She said something to Skye about his strange behavior, and Skye laughed.

"You don't have to tell me Ward's weird," she said. 

 

******

Christmas Eve turned out to be much less of an ordeal than she had anticipated. No one attempted to make her believe in magic or talking animals. It was nice, pleasant even, to spend the day with the team, and Jemma did her level best not to make snide comments during  _It's A Wonderful Life_. 

Besides, every time she was about to, Ward did something distracting. Like putting an arm around her shoulders. Or running his hand up and down her arm. 

By the end of the second film - something called  _White Christmas_ , which involved much more dancing and singing, but at least fewer angels - Jemma was feeling a bit like a teenager in the back of a movie theater. She was flushed and sensitive and very, very aware of how close Grant Ward was sitting. 

Then the credits rolled and he hopped up, smiling. "Time for my shift in the cockpit," he said. "May wants to prep the sleds."

They landed in Colorado, and Jemma was bundled into the SUV without anyone answering her question of where they were going. Somehow, she wound up sitting next to Ward again. 

Skye was in the middle seat with Fitz, and she and Ward were in the back row.

"Don't you generally sit up front?" she asked him. 

"During an operation, sure," he said with a nod. "But this is a no-weapons drive."

They sped through the darkness, and he stretched one arm across the back of the seat. She opened her mouth to say something, to comment, but found herself relaxing back against its warmth instead.

"You know, you never did answer my question."

"I'm well aware, Simmons," he said. 

"Well what am I supposed to-"

"We're here!" Fitz interrupted. "Okay, who brought the blindfold?"

"I've got it," Skye waved a mask as she clambered out of the car. "Are we all clear, Agent May?"

"Yes, I've already talked to the manager," May said. "The mountain is ours."

"M-mountain?" Jemma blinked as Ward held out a hand to help her from the SUV. She ignored it and stepped down, almost falling on the icy pavement but for his hand on her elbow. 

Sure enough, they were at a small ski resort, the lights blazing, the slopes covered in a fine white powder that disappeared down into the darkness. 

"I'm just going to... to sit here and let you all handle this one," Jemma said finally. 

Skye pouted. Fitz scowled. May sighed.

Ward slid a hand into hers. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll catch you if you fall."

Then they were moving, Fitz and May dragging some small briefcases that were either full of explosives or some kind of sliding device, as Jemma did not see any others at hand. 

Skye looked to Ward questioningly. "Blindfold?"

He shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"If you're talking about me," Jemma gritted out through her teeth, "please do me the courtesy of including me in the conversation."

"Fitz and I thought maybe if you couldn't  _see_ the mountain..." Skye started.

"Oh no. Nope. No. You stay away from me with that," Jemma said, instinctively squeezing Ward's hand more tightly and taking a step in his direction. 

He reached out and plucked the piece of fabric from Skye's hand. 

"Don't worry, we won't mention it again."

The briefcases were sleds, of a sort. They had controls and brakes and rubber tubing on the bottom that inflated to make the ride faster. They also had a track that could be activated to carry you back up the hill. When unfolded, they were large enough for two.

The team trudged to the top of the smallest hill and May narrowed her eyes at Skye.

"Race you to the bottom?"

"You're on!"

Jemma didn't realize she was clutching Ward's hand as hard as she was until he leaned down and said, "No racing for you?"

"Sorry." She loosened her grip, waving encouragingly at Fitz as he hopped on his own sled and chased after the two women. "I just... it's a bit of a long way down, isn't it?"

He shot her a look, and she sighed. "All right, yes, I can tell the angle of the hill and the acceleration potential of this kind of snow cover, and I'm just not sure I'm comfortable going that fast!"

"Well that's why you've got me to steer," he said, hitting the button on the last briefcase so it expanded into a sled. "Consider me your safety blanket for the evening. Unless you'd rather Fitz, or May?"

Jemma blinked at him. "No, I'm sure you're a perfectly good... safety blanket."

"All right, then," he said, swinging her into the sled and then sliding down behind her. His arms and legs came around her. "Ready, Jemma?"

"Not really, so you'd better just get it over wiiiiiiith!"

She screamed about half of the way down. But when it became clear that he was in control and they weren't about hurtle off any cliffs or hit any trees, she relaxed enough to notice the way the moon hit the snow and made it sparkle, and how the cold bite of the wind on her cheeks was a strangely thrilling contrast to the warmth of the man pressed up behind her.

By the end of the night, she was racing the others, laughing as she sped through the fresh powder. Her safety blanket was already at the bottom, one hand to his eyes, watching her descent.

The owner of the resort had cocoa and alcohol laid out in the lodge when they finished. Ward nudged her at one point and she looked up to see Fitz and Skye blushing under a little bunch of mistletoe. He left a peck on her cheek and she rolled her eyes, pulling him in for a real kiss. 

It really did all feel a bit... magical.

So she was sad, just a bit, to head back to the SUV. She hung back and watched Fitz dance his awkward dance around Skye, the hopeful puppy reborn. May was already in the car, starting the defrost and checking their ETA. 

Ward had waited for her. 

"See?" he said gently. "Not such a bad holiday."

She shivered a bit in the cold mountain air, and he slung an arm around her, like he'd been doing all day, pulling her into his side and sharing his own warmth as they walked to the car.

"What made you such a Christmas evangelist anyway?" she asked.

"My brother," he admitted. "We had a... tough childhood. It was really important to me that Christmas stayed a happy memory for him."

Jemma looked away, embarrassed to pry into such a personal memory. "I'm sure you did a great job of that."

"I did ok," he said, pride in his voice. "He believed in Santa until he was 10."

"Why is that so important to everyone?" 

"Because that's what Christmas magic is," he said seriously. "It's not magic at all, it's hope. And he needed hope."

She dozed on the way back to the Bus, waking once or twice to find herself tucked against him, warm and safe, his fingers playing in her hair. They all went right to bed, and Skye warned them she'd be getting everyone up early for the gift exchange.

Jemma knew she was out of time, but she was so very tired... she'd figure it out first thing.

 

******

"Jemma! Hurry up!" Skye pounding on her door was the first thing she heard. "Everyone's waiting."

Well damn. Jemma rolled out of bed and wrapped her robe around her, looking for something, anything to make up for the fact that she was completely without a present for Ward.

She wound up scribbling a note and wrapping it in the remnants of Fitz's Christmas card envelope. 

The other gifts were already on the table. She flushed and slipped her half-hearted attempt underneath a neatly wrapped box with a silver bow. Where had they even gotten all of these wrappings?

May had gotten Skye a new gun holster. "But you still need to practice the difference between the safety and the magazine," she chided.

Fitz got May an automated shaving cream dispenser. (She'd admitted to her prank a few weeks after the fact, and Fitz now felt incredibly special to have been her very first victim on the team.)

Skye's was the fancy box on top of Jemma's reused envelope, and when she handed it to Fitz, Jemma's eyes darted to the other small box on the table. 

So that was hers. From Ward. 

She was so distracted by the revelation that she almost missed Fitz's squeal of excitement when he unwrapped the little plush monkey. 

"I'm naming it Snickers," he said. "I could automate it, make it do small tasks around the lab..."

"Fitz," Skye hushed him with a smile. "It's Jemma's turn."

Ward reached over and plucked the envelope from the table. His eyes were laughing as he pulled apart her sad attempt at wrapping. But they softened when he read the note.

He folded it and tucked it into his pocket. "It's perfect," he said. "Just what I wanted."

Jemma let out a sigh of relief, and blindly grabbed for her gift. While Skye and Fitz protested that Ward was supposed to show them what his gift was or it ruined the point of secret santa, she ripped off the simple red paper and popped open the box. 

She didn't realize the room had gone quiet until she lifted the little spring of mistletoe up to show it to the team and found Ward standing right in front of her. 

He pulled her to her feet and took the little branch from her hand. 

"Merry Christmas, Jemma," he said softly, leaning down to catch her lips with his. It felt like she was flying down that snowy hill from last night, and she never wanted the feeling to stop.

Skye's wolf whistle drew them apart. "Ok, kids, save that for, you know, not here."

Jemma glared at her and started to sit back down. Grant sat beside her and handed the little box back to her. "You missed the other part of the gift."

There was a note in hers as well. 

_Jemma,_

_Maybe it's too late to give you back a child's hope. But thanks for letting me share some of my favorite Christmas joys with a certain skeptical scientist._

_P.S. I'll let you keep this._

She felt soft fabric beneath her fingers and blushed bright red to see the blindfold nestled in the bottom of the box.

Maybe she had been too harsh on the holiday. Merry Christmas, indeed. 

 

******

A few months later, she was digging for a pair of socks in Ward’s drawer when her fingers closed around a piece of paper tucked under a small rock at the back. She pulled it out, curious, and her eyes widened when she realized it was her note from the silly gift exchange. One sentence, but she'd meant every word.

_I hope that every Christmas is as magical as this one._


End file.
